


Broken Triangle

by Angelike



Category: Fushigi Yuugi
Genre: F/M, Marriage, One Shot, Short Story, Unrequited Love, Wedding Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-01
Updated: 2004-04-01
Packaged: 2017-10-02 13:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelike/pseuds/Angelike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Miaka prepares to marry her beloved, she receives a visit from the one she didn't choose. The love triangle is broken. Must he break too?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Triangle

Married. She was getting married.

As she gazed into the vanity mirror, mindlessly smoothing invisible creases from her flowing gown of red and gold silk, she could hardly bring herself to believe that the vision of bridal loveliness staring impassively back really was her reflection. Where was the carefree girl who loved food and fun more than anything in this world? Where was the girl whose greatest worry was whether or not she would get into the high school of her choice? When had she been replaced by a mature young woman with ancient eyes?

“No, not replaced—_transformed_,” she murmured. Those ancient eyes of hers had seen a lot during the past several months—more, perhaps, than any fifteen-year-old had any right to see. Memories of her adventures haunted her still, day and night. Her dreams were often filled with memories of war and death and suffering—but not always.

She'd experienced some truly terrible things, it was true, but there had been good experiences too. Here, in this land called Konan, she'd found friends who would care for her in spite of her many faults and insecurities. Here in Konan, she'd found a man who would give her everything her heart desired if only she would just ask...

Here in Konan, she'd found what her heart had been crying out for all her life.

Her lips curved into a wistful smile. Fate works in mysterious ways. If someone had told her that she would be transported to a world inside a book where she'd win the affections of _two_ wonderful young men, she'd have laughed—and then wished it could be so. What girl in her right mind wouldn't want both a charming emperor and a dashing young warrior vying for her attentions, after all? Well, it was all well in good in a dream, but not in reality.

In reality, people get hurt.

“Miaka?”

She froze, her eyes widening like those of a deer caught in headlights. It was _him_. Slowly, with great effort, she forced herself to her feet and turned to face him.

He looked good. That's not to say that he didn't always look good, but in those dress-robes (especially made for the wedding of the Priestess of Suzaku and her beloved seishi) he looked even more spectacular than usual. And he knew it too, if that glint in his eye was any indication.

“You know, you look a little pale,” he commented. “If you’re getting cold feet, it's still not too late to change your mind. I could smuggle you out of here in ten seconds flat.” His voice was too cheerful, and his smile too wide; they both knew the words, though voiced in jest, were true and heartfelt.

Her heart ached.

“Thanks for the offer,” she replied with forced calmness. This was supposed to be a happy day. She would _not_ cry. “I think I'll be all right, though. Really.” His gaze was so intense, so full of sorrow and yearning that she had to advert her own. Best to look at anything but him, be it carpet, painting, or ceiling...

The silence was awkward and seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked finally.

“I just...” His voice quivered, and she couldn't prevent the tears from forming in her eyes. To think she was the cause of his suffering! “I just want—no, I _need_ to know why it couldn't be me you're meeting at the alter today! I love you Miaka! Why don't you love me? Why?”

“But I do love you!” she cried.

He went quiet. Frightfully quiet. His eyes were bewildered, searching for answers. The only answers she had were ones she knew he wouldn't want to hear. But he deserved an explanation. She owed him that much.

“Whom do I run to when I have a problem? When I have a question? When I need help? You. Always you. I've come to count on you to be there for me—even when I'm just being stupid. I love the way you know just when to take me seriously and when not to. I love how you believe in me. I know I can trust you to always come through for me. The thing is, my love for you—well, I've come to recognize it as more of that of a sister for a brother.”

His expression was pained. “A brother. You see me as a mere _brother_. I see.”

“No. I don't think you _do_ see!” she snapped. “There is no 'mere' about it!” A single tear trickled down her cheek, unnoticed. “Your the only family I have in this place! Yui-chan has gone back to my own world, and I'll never see my mother or brother ever again! I _need_ you!” She was sobbing without reserve now. “I need you. Please, don't abandon me just because I can't love you the way you want me too. Please, I'm begging you...”

Strong arms encircled her, pulling her into a tight embrace. She simply accepted his offered comfort, clenched the front of his robe, and wept into his chest. She'd always felt safe in his arms.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I've been selfish haven't I? I only ever wanted to make you happy, and now I've made you cry.”

“You've never been selfish. Never,” she replied, turning her face up to him. “If you were a selfish person, you wouldn't be trying to comfort me right now. You'd want me to cry.”

“I would never want to cause you pain.”

“And I never wanted to hurt _you_,” she said softly. “You were right in believing we were destined to be together. We just weren't destined for each other in the way you wanted us to be.” She smiled, running a finger across the point where his celestial symbol glowed when he was needed. “Your heart, my dear seishi, is destined for another.”

“I will never love another.” His words were firm and unyielding.

This roused a sad sort of amusement. “Don't be so sure. I think, perhaps, you only fancied yourself in love with me because you wanted someone to protect and take care of—and I'm not talking about 'duty,' either.”

“I don't understand...”

“You will one day, maybe. But until then... Will you stay? Will you be the one I can turn to when my husband behaves foolishly? When I just need to get away? Will you let me call you brother? Family?” She waited with bated breath for his response, her eyes studying his face for signs of misgivings. He appeared as stoic and impassive as ever he could be.

Suddenly she could hear the sound of many voices and laughter and music drawing near. Her future husband had arrived with his entourage to escort her to the alter, as the local custom dictated. All he had to do was get past Nuriko, who had volunteered to play the part of her “bridesmaid” since she had no female friends to play the part. Apparently, tradition insisted that a friend or sister of the bride give the bridegroom a difficult time before he is allow to fetch his bride. Nuriko had been looking forward to testing her sweetheart’s wit and such for some time now... Her groom, however, had _not_ been looking forward to the event.

“Are you sure you want me as a brother?” he said, voice without inflection.

She blinked. “I wouldn't have asked, if it wasn't what I wanted.”

“You do know what big brothers get to do, right?”

Miaka eyed him warily. Somehow she got the feeling that she wasn't going to like where this conversation was leading. He looked too...smug? Was that the right word? “What are you trying to say?” He ignored her question, shooting a glance at the door separating Miaka and her bridegroom. From the sound of things, Nuriko was really getting into character; maybe it wasn't such a good idea to name him "bridesmaid." Her beloved would never win his way through that door if he had his way. Nuriko was taking the word "overprotective" to a whole new level.

Realization struck like a whip.

“You want to help Nuriko give him a hard time.” It wasn't a question. It was a fact.

A mischievous smile lit his face, smoothing away the grief lines that had previously dominated his features. “If I'm your brother, then it is my privilege to challenge his worthiness to seek your hand. Since you have no sisters or girl-friends to help Nuriko out, it's my duty to...stir things up a bit.”

She really didn't like that look.

“I CHALLENGE YOU TO A WRESTLING MATCH!” Nuriko's cry echoed through the room. Suzaku be blessed! A wrestling match! Enthusiasm was fine, but wasn’t a wrestling match a little extreme?

“I-I don't think Nuriko needs any help. He's giving my poor bridegroom a hard enough time as it is...”

“Then you won't let me be your big brother? You've changed your mind?”

He was toying with her now. She knew it. He knew she knew it. He was enjoying himself immensely. It was nice to see that him with an emotion other than depression in his eyes.

“Fine,” she growled. “You win.”

He grinned. “Great. Now, you'd best fix your makeup—it's a bit smeared from all that crying—and put on that veil while I go keep your man occupied. You want to look your best for him, don't you?” With a gentle shove back towards the vanity, he turned to make his happy way to the door.

She stared after him, not fooled in the least by his show of contentment.

He paused at the door.

“Miaka?”

“Yes?”

“If it couldn't have been me you chose... Then I'm glad it was him. He's a good man.” He slipped out the door before she had a chance to respond.

“Thank you,” she whispered anyway. “You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that.” She then turned to her vanity mirror to finish getting ready.

When her harried bridegroom stumbled into the room twenty minutes later, she was ready for him. It seems all her hard work paid off too, because when he set his eyes upon her his expression softened and he stared as if bewitched.

He didn’t look half bad himself, but then she would think he was the most handsome man in the universe if his hair was a knotted mess, his clothes old, torn, and muddied, and his face grimy with dirt. Of course, she would never tell him that. Ever.

“I think I must be marrying an angel,” he murmured, making his way forward until he stood not a foot in front of her. “The sight of you would please me more,” he grinned, reaching out to tug at the translucent red veil obscuring all of her face but her eyes, “if I could see your face.” With a joyful laugh, she slapped his hand away and entwined her arm with his.

“If you wish to see my face, my love, you shall have to escort me to the alter quickly; the sooner we complete the ceremony, the sooner I can remove this silly veil.”

“In that case,” he said, “let’s be off!” With one smooth motion, Miaka found herself quite literally swept off her feet to the surprise of herself and all the escorts who’d followed her soon-to-be-husband into the room. “That veil isn’t the only thing that can and _will_ be removed after the ceremony.”

She sputtered. “Hotohori!”

Her bridegroom, the Emperor of her heart, just smiled and carried her out of the bedroom, several laughing seishi trailing after.


End file.
